Holly Pine and the Sorcerer's Stone - The Untold Story
by TheInsaneM
Summary: You've all heard the story of Harry Potter. Wonderful tales of his years traveling through the school named Hogwarts, narrowly escaping death and saving the world from the notorious one named Lord Voldemort. Many call him 'You-Know-Who' even still, or 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named'. Yet you've never even heard of Holly Willow Pine. Twinfic, HarryPotter time era. OC
1. The Introduction of Holly

_I know I shouldn't start ANOTHER story, but I just can't help it. I really feel like that if I don't post it, I never will. But I will post one that's about the Avengers, just not right now. This is Harry Potter and his twin, Holly. Yes, it's so clique, but there's always a different element in each one of these, and this one is different. Nobody has done this type, and if they have, please tell me. Pretty please? I want mine to be unique._

_Disclaimer: Ownage of Harry Potter is not mine. Enjoy this beautiful fanfiction._

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You've all heard the story of Harry Potter. Wonderful tales of his years traveling through the school named Hogwarts, narrowly escaping death and saving the world from the notorious one named Lord Voldemort. Many call him 'You-Know-Who' even still, or 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named'.

Yet you've never even heard of Holly Willow Pine.

It is not your fault, nor is it the fault of anyone's except Dumbledore's. He was not being mean, no. He was trying to protect the young Potter family. Yet it caused the avoidance of any mention of this young girl. Everywhere in this famous boy's life she kept popping up, and it slightly alters the story. Not too much, but there is the fact that she was there.

When the twins were born, Dumbledore wanted both to be hidden, for he suspected something. Not that he told the Potters what that suspicion was; he just kept it close to his heart as he attempted to solve the problem that he did not yet know. However, many had seen Lily pregnant, so it would cause skepticism about the truth. The second-born was hidden. Still cared for, but hidden.

The reason why she was hidden was not because of anything wrong with the parents - they just wanted to be truthful. "This is our first-born child," they wanted to say. It wouldn't've been true with Holly. After the life-altering encounter with Lord Voldemort, Dumbledore went to retrieve the poor child, crying in her crib. He entrusted her to the care of Della Pine, a close friend of Lily's and Holly's godmother. Only she knew of the secret. Well, Sirius Black did, and obviously Dumbledore, too. Holly was too young to know it, but when she grew up, she learned.

Della hid no secrets from her. Nearly every truth that she knew and thought to be real was taught to the young Holly as she was growing up. She was also taught to keep this secret to herself. As she grew up, she learned to be a very secretive soul, not lying about the truth, but skillfully avoiding it. The morning of her birthday, 31 July, 1991, she was ready to encounter the infamous Harry Potter, who Della believed wouldn't know anything about the fame.

She woke up that morning ready for anything. The sun was just barely peaking over the distant glimmer of the ocean when she leaped out of bed, dashing down the stairs. Her deep, emerald green eyes sparkled with excitement. In only one month's time, she would be off to see the wizards, as that American Muggle musical once said. She skid across the hard-wood floor, slipping around the corner. When she got to the living room, she had a better foothold due to the plush carpet that Della enchanted so it would change color according to mood. At the moment, the carpet was a startlingly bright neon green. Only the smallest corner was a darker green, where Della was standing.

"Happy birthday, Holly!" she exclaimed, joy shining through her soft, gray-blue eyes. Four lines of rugged scars ran down the side of her face, one just barely pulling down the corner of her right eye. It cut halfway down her cheek, then disappeared under the waves of her fair hair. Nobody could believe that she was her mother - the only similarity came down to their pasty complexion. Holly had unruly black curls, but since she kept her hair short, it wasn't too much of a problem.

"So here's the birthday plan - we're gonna take a stroll down Diagon Alley, get you some more books to feed this noggin," at that she placed her palm on Holly's head and shook it around, "get some ice cream, then I'll get you a special present while you get your wand. Then we'll get some Western food, 'cause that's your favorite, and we'll head back home for some cake. What'd you think?" Della looked at her expectantly.

Holly smiled up at her and replied, "I think it sounds brilliant."

"Let's go then. Get ready - we Floo in ten minutes!" Holly nodded, then darted up the stairs. Her ocean-blue curtains fluttered with the end of the summer breeze as she tugged on a royal-blue shirt with the words in a lighter blue; 'Happiness isn't what You're Getting - It's Loving what You Have.' She threw on some jeans and finished it off with her favorite robe - deep blue with small sapphires lining the edges. Then she flew down the stairs and dashed straight to the fireplace, pausing only to jam on her trainers and snatch up a pinchful of Floo powder. She stepped into the glowing fireplace and clearly shouted the name of her destination while throwing down the dust. She was soon followed by Della, who led her to Flourish and Blotts.

Della pulled out the list and scanned the books. "I've already got most of these, so we don't need to get any more. But we do need _Magical Theory_ by Adalbert Waffling, _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ by Quentin Trimble, and _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ by Phyllida Spore. Any books you interested in, Holly?" She glanced over to see that her little body was gone, off to scan the titles of magical books. She quickly picked up the few books that they needed, then went to find her young charge. After searching quite a few rows, she saw her little black head lugging a large pile of books.

The young girl picked up a large, leather-bound book, examined the title, then flipped open the cover and read the description. Satisfied, she added it to the ever-growing pile. "We can't buy the entire bookstore, Holly," Della deftly reminded her. She shrugged.

"All of these books are so good, though!" she complained. "Look - _Surprise Spells _by Jeremy Wobian. Oh, and _Hogwarts, A History_; you know, so I know everything about the school. And what about -"

"I get it, Holly. All of these books are fascinating. But I'm not the richest witch in the world, so we've got to set the limit; five big books or ten little ones. You get your pick."

Sighing, the eager girl sat on the floor and started separating the piles. In the end, she got three thick, heavy books, including _Hogwarts, A History, _and four little ones, including _Surprise Spells_. Then they left the shop and went towards Ollivander's. As they neared, they saw a little sign hanging in front of the door, which read 'Closed'.

"Closed?" Holly inquired, surprised. "But I thought Ollivander's is never closed."

Della shrugged. "We'll try tomorrow. If something happened, it would've been in the Prophet. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about."

Holly knew Della wasn't worried - the carefree look on her face made it obvious enough. And though she knew that Della was probably right, she still felt like something had gone wrong. Why was Ollivander's closed in the middle of the day? Everyone knew that Ollivander never closed his shop; everyday he was working. Although it would be hard to sell wands during the school year. But Holly never really thought of that. In her mind, she debated fantastical stories of what had actually happened to Ollivander, her imagination racing.

Eventually, Della snapped her fingers in front of Holly's face. "Well, I suppose you've come up with another story?"

Her eyes focused on her guardian. "Oh, yes Della. Sorry, I must've -"

"Never mind that. Which one do you want?"

Confused, Holly turned her head and saw in front of her rows and rows of owls, hooting, fluttering, and staring at her with wide, yellow eyes. How she did not notice the flying feathers or the noise of them was unknown to her, but she stared at the creatures with awe. "Are you joking?" she exclaimed, her emerald eyes flicking to every one. Her eyes came to a rest on a beauty, snowy-white with large amber eyes.

"Do you not want an owl?" Della questioned, her brow furrowing.

She shook her head. "It's not that I don't want an owl, it's that they're so _expensive_! But she looks beautiful, look at her." Fascinated, Holly jumped up to the white owl, which flew to her arm. "Look at you. Beautiful, you are." She turned and grinned at Della. "Wait," she suddenly said, her smile dropping from her face. "How much are the snowy owls?"

From behind the desk, a rather large woman answered, "Only thirty Galleons."

"Oh, sorry, then," she apologized. She turned towards the owl and whispered, "I would've named you Bianca, if I had the chance. Go on then, back to your post." The owl ruffled it's feathers and lifted off of Holly's arm, landing back on the pedestal. "What's the cheapest full-size owl you have?"

"That would be a tawny, they're only twelve," the woman promptly replied. "But, if you wanted, I could give her to you for twenty Galleons."

"No, no, that's fine. I'll have this one," she picked, choosing a pretty owl with caramel, hazel, and white feathers interlaced together. "You'll be Cadbury." The owl's huge yellow eyes blinked.

Della sighed, "If you want, you can get the snowy owl. It would be fine."

Shaking her head, Holly responded, "No it wouldn't. It's too much money, and besides, someone else can have her. She's obviously a very intelligent owl. I'll have Cadbury."

"She doesn't budge an inch, too stubborn, she is," Della muttered.

Giggling, Holly defended, "

I'm not stubborn, I just have instinctual reluctancy."

Rolling her eyes, Della dished out twelve Galleons. "I've got food and a cage at home. Just to start him off."

"Okay. Let's go home, we've got to come back tomorrow for my wand."

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_Yup, that's it. What'd you think? Sorry about the other Harry Potter one, I'm just feeling really bitter. Bitterness won't work for that one, but for this one... oh, you'll see. _

_Review!_

_-IM_


	2. Diagon Alley

_So I'm posting again. This is the first time Holly bumps into Harry... and it's going to be special. _

_Disclaimer - Harry Potter is not mine, thank you very much._

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"Della! I'm ready to go! I want my wand!" Holly called out.

"Go on, I've got to get to work! Stay safe and if you need anything, just give me a call, okay? Don't forget to take the Gringotts key - I've got no money to give you."

"Okay!" Holly shouted up. She darted to the kitchen and ripped open the door, searching for the tiny brass key that would open the vault at the Wizarding Bank. Then she ran back to the kitchen, picked up a snatchful of Floo powder, and shouted "Diagon Alley" as she threw it into the fire.

Her head slightly spinning, she calmly stepped out of the fireplace in the Gringotts lobby. Just as she did, though, a giant man and someone all too familiar stepped through the front entrance. His curious green eyes raked over everything as the two approached a free goblin. His eyes landed on her staring at him and she quickly looked away, beginning to walk briskly over to wait in line, as there were no goblins free left. One opened up right next to the one Harry and his friend were at.

Forcing herself to smile slightly, Holly approached the goblin. "Vault one hundred and forty-seven. Della Pine."

"Your key?" the goblin drawled.

"Right here," she murmured, holding up the small brass key.

"Excuse me," a soft voice whispered. Startled, Holly turned her head towards the boy. His emerald eyes met hers as he inquired, "Why is your key brass and mine gold?"

"Oh, uh, it's probably because yours is deeper and further down... more valuables in it. Wouldn't you know that, with a golden key?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm new to this whole wizarding thing."

"Are you sure you're not pureblood?" Holly inquired politely.

Confused, he replied, "No - well, I might be. I - I'm not sure. What was your name?"

"Holly Pine."

"I'm Harry Potter."

She nodded. "Nice to meet you, Harry. I hope I see you in Gryffindor."

Frowning, he responded, "But our school is Hogwarts."

"Oh, well you'll find out. I don't want to spoil the surprise..."

"Miss, your goblin's here," the snide voice of the goblin interrupted.

Tearing her eyes away from Harry's, she turned towards the two wrinkled, short humanoids. "Alright then. Let's go." She followed the two goblins to a small cart, which she clambered into with them. In her mind, she scolded herself. _See you in Gryffindor? Really, Holly, you could be in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff for all you know_! Harry and his oversized friend joined the cart, much to her surprise. Even still, she smiled at him. Within a short time, she was already at the vault with the goblin sticking the key into the hole. It opened with an odd sort of stone creak, revealing a stack of gold, a small pile of silver, and a little hill of bronze. She took only six Galleons and thirty-four Sickles, leaving only the Knuts untouched. Wands cost a lot.

Turning, she told the goblin, "I'm ready." He lead her back to the cart, which rattled it's way down to Harry's vault. They went deeper than Holly had ever been before, even passing a small burst of flame that Holly suspected might've been a dragon, and a huge underground lake where stalactites and stalagmites grew from the ceiling and floor.

Over the noise of the cart, Harry inquired, "I never know, what's the difference between a stalagmite and a stalactite?"

The big man answered, "Stalagmite's got an 'm' in it. An' don' ask me questions just know, I think I'm gonna be sick."

She inspected the man's hairy face and realized that he did look rather green, and he leaned up against the wall to stop his knees from trembling when they got out. The goblin stepped forward and unlocked the door. Green smoke billowed out, and, when it cleared, it was revealed to have mounds of gold, columns of silver, and heaps of bronze. Harry gasped, and Holly's eyes went round. She had never seen so much money in her life.

"All yours," smiled the man. He hurried forward and helped Harry pile some of it into a large bag. He explained the gist of Wizard money while Holly blinked, trying to believe the amount inside of that vault. It was remarkable that he had so _much_. After they were done, he turned tot he goblin and asked, "Vault seven hundred and thirteen, now, please, and could we go more slowly?"

The goblin replied, "One speed only."

As they climbed back in, Holly tapped Harry on the shoulder. "Stalagmites are the ones that grow up. Stalactites are the ones that grow down. Just think like the stalactites are holding on tight to the top."

He stared at her, surprised. "Thanks, Holly." Then he smiled, and when he did, he looked just like that picture that Della had in the house of her mother and father. She couldn't help but smile back, even though there was some sort of sadness hiding behind. She looked away as they whizzed down, the air becoming cooler and damper as they hurtled around tight corners. When they went rattling over and underground ravine, Harry leaned over the side to try to see what was down at the dark bottom, but the big man groaned and pulled him back they the scruff of his neck.

That vault, vault seven hundred and thirteen - it had no keyhole. The goblin ordered the three to "Stand back," importantly, then he stroked the door with his long fingers, almost like a soft caress. The door melted away, showing really nothing except a small package wrapped in plain brown paper lying on the floor. "If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they'd be sucked through the door and trapped in there," the goblin informed.

Curious, Harry questioned, "How often do you check to see if anyone's inside?"

With a rather nasty grin, the goblin replied, "About once every ten years."

Holly shuddered, imagining a skeleton of a greedy wizard trapped inside an airless room for _years_ without food or water. She had to admit, it didn't sound tempting. The hairy giant snatched up the small package and stuffed it deep inside of his coat, then moaned, "Come on, back in this infernal cart, and don't talk to me on the way back, it's best if I keep me mouth shut."

After the long cart ride up, Holly waved Harry goodbye, confused and worried and hopeful all wrapped up in a small little package. So many 'what ifs' ran through her mind; What if he came to hate her? What if he became her best friend? What if he didn't? What if someone finds out? What if he finds out? What if he doesn't? And what it, what if something completely crazy and weird happens - what if he falls in love with her? They distracted her so much that she didn't realize that she was almost going down Knockturn Alley. She definitely didn't want to go down there.

Because of that little reminder, she realized that she'd been fighting the crowd to go in the wrong direction. It had taken her at least half an hour, and now it would take her even longer to get to Ollivander's. She started pushing her way towards the shop, navigating through the people towards where she knew the dusty old shop would be. After a long while, she finally came to it. She yanked open the dusty door and burst inside, a small tinkling sound emitting from the back of the shop.

Immediately, an odd old man rushed up, his wide eyes like bright full moons. "Hello, Holly Potter," he greeted quietly. "So you've come for your wand, eh? Well, hardly surprising... your brother was in here just a few moments ago. His wand was eleven inches, nice and supple, phoenix feather and holly, such an unusual mix."

"H-how do you know about Potter?" she inquired, stuttering slightly.

"Oh, my dear, everyone knows about Harry Potter."

She inhaled deeply. "Right, of course, but how do you know about Potter being my last name, too?"

"I was a good friend of your parents'. It seems like only yesterday they were here getting their wands..." he started wandering up and down the many rows of deep blue boxes in which the wands were encased. "Your mother had a nice wand, ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Good for charms. Your father, however, bought a mahogany wand, eleven inches, pliable. Excellent for transfiguration with a bit more power..." he trailed off. Then he came back with a tape measure and begun to measure all sorts of areas. Everywhere from the length of her shoes to the space between her nostrils the tape measure measured, without any assistance from Ollivander, who was strolling down the aisles, picking up random boxes.

Eventually, Ollivander called, "That's quite enough, thank you. Which arm is your wand arm?"

The tape measure dropped to the floor, crumpling into little wheel as she answered, "Right."

The wandmaker came back with his arms full of wand-boxes, which he carefully set on a spindly chair in a corner. He opened one box and handed the wand to her, saying, "Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches, quite whippy. Go on, give it a wave." She did as she was instructed, but he snatched it from her hand. "Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches, nice and flexible." Again, she waved it, but not for more than a second. He ripped it out of her hand once more and gave another to her. "Ebony and unicorn hair. Eight and half inches, springy." That one, too, was taken almost instantly. Over and over, he gave her different wands, none of them being in her hand for more than five seconds before he took them back. But with every wand, he became more elated.

Eventually, he gave her a wand, naming it as, "An odd mix. Almost forgot I had this one - holly and dragon heartstring. Ten and three-quarter inches, slightly flexible. Wonderful for elemental spells." Once she took a hold of the wand, she felt like it belonged in her hand. She didn't even have to wave it; Ollivander nodded and took the wand, putting it in a box and wrapping it in brown paper. He asked for six Galleons and thirty-four Sickles, which she quickly paid. She really didn't like the way he was staring at her.

As she left, she stopped by Eeylops Owl Emporium to see Bianca, the snowy owl she was admiring the day before, but the woman standing behind the counter informed her that a big, hairy man with a young boy bought it just a few hours ago.

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_So, what do you think? It took me a little longer than I expected to write, but next is the train ride to Hogwarts. I'll update as soon as you lot review. _

_-IM_


	3. The Hogwarts Express

_Okay, so this is the Hogwarts Express going on. Next chapter get ready for the start of something bitter. It's going to get worse over the years..._

_Also, I won't update nearly as quickly without anybody reviewing. Just saying._

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter = not mine. Get it through your thick skull. I don't own Harry Potter._

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She had barely slept that night, the night before the first day of school. The month had dragged on, a day going so slow that it felt like a week. She'd always loved reading, so she read through every single book as quickly as possible while absorbing the information. She admired her wand, she tried on her robes, packed and unpacked her bag, excited for the day when she would board the Hogwarts Express and be on her way to the magical school.

She woke up at five o'clock am, shoved some Muggle clothes on, and retrieved a large trunk. She put her folded robes in, then placed her school books neatly on top with all of her necessary school supplies. After a second thought, she threw in a toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush, a bottle of ink, a few quills, and spare parchment. She slammed the trunk shut, closed the door on Cadbury's cage, and picked the two up. Well, she _attempted_ to pick up the heavy trunk, but the best she could do was drag it.

Holly darted down the stairs, a wide smile stretching out her cheeks, as she twirled a strand of her messy black hair and tapped her foot. She was sitting at the oak-wood dining room table, turning and twisting to look out the window and check the time. Five minutes later, which felt like a few long hours, she couldn't stand it anymore and she pulled out a random book, which turned out to be One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore. Already the spine was creased right in the middle, and the book was dog-eared to her favorite ingredients (this included the mistletoe berries, which are usually poisonous without the Bezoar, also marked in the book).

She got lost in all the properties of the ingredients, not even noticing Della shuffle in and begin to mix up pancake batter. In fact, she didn't even know that Della was in the room until she plopped down across from her, put down the plate of pancakes, and begin eating slightly undercooked sausage patties. "Oh, good morning, Della," Holly greeted, finally putting down the book and looking up.

Instantly she knew that something was wrong. There was something in Della's gray-blue eyes that wasn't good, something different. "Della? What's wrong?"

The young girl's guardian played with the sausage. "I lost my job again," she answered hesitantly.

Holly's eyes flared with anger. "That's horrible! It's all because of that stupid, _stupid_ werewolf! It's not like he bit you!"

"He isn't stupid, Holly. And it wasn't his fault."

She bit her tongue, cursing at herself. "Right, sorry. It's not his fault. But still, they shouldn't've fired you! It's not fair. It's just a few scars."

Della smiled tolerantly. "Holly, you know that life isn't fair. You just have to make the best of it. You know, you're very loyal. I wouldn't be surprised if you're in Hufflepuff."

Knowing that Della wanted to get off the topic, Holly went with the Hufflepuff idea. "I dunno. I _am _brilliant, after all." With huge false pride, she balled her hands into fists and placed them on her hips, lifting her chin foolishly. Della suppressed a laugh.

"Eat your pancakes, brilliant girl. You have a big day ahead of you. Getting Sorted and all."

She opened her mouth as though to retort, but Della used her fork to stuff a bite in. Holly nearly choked on it laughing. After she swallowed, she sniffed, "Fine, I'll eat these semi-good pancakes. I'd much rather have a bad box of Every Flavor Beans, but..."

Della gasped like she was offended, only extremely exaggerated so Holly knew she was faking it. "How dare you?"

"How dare I? How dare _you_?"

"What do you mean, how dare I? I asked first!"

"I asked second!"

They glared at each other for a good ten seconds before bursting out laughing. "Eat your pancakes, Holly."

This time, Holly complied, shoving bites in quickly. Time once again began to slow down. She had spent an hour and a half reading that book, so it was six thirty, but now every second seemed like twenty minutes. At seven, Della helped Holly get the heavy trunk into the back of the car, and they set off for King's Cross. On the way, Holly leaned up against the window, staring out towards the houses flying past.

Her eyes flicked from side to side as she slowly got lost in thought, her mind weaving fantastic tales about Hogwarts; her imagination went from one idea to another, including vampires - no, werewolves - as teachers, dementors guarding the grounds, even a few students defeating a troll. That one lingered in her mind for the oddest amount of time, longer than any usual story lasted. She even came up with the setting, and characters. Holly was deciding between a large classroom and a bathroom as the setting when something distracted her - a new car driving past.

This wasn't anything odd, except for someone sitting the back, looking rather miserable - a young boy with untidy black hair and brilliant green eyes. His glasses were round with an awful lot of tape round the center. Holly jerked out her reverie about the students defeating the troll to study Harry. Why would he look so miserable? He was so happy that month before, in Diagon Alley.

"Holly? Anything new? Is it a giant chess game again?"

"What? No, just - that car there, isn't that Harry Potter?" she pointed towards it, and Della's gaze followed.

She nodded, "Yeah. But you'd know; same hair, same eyes. The only difference is you don't have glasses."

"If I did, it'd be a lot harder to keep the secret."

Then, he turned, and he saw her. Before she knew what she was doing, she smiled and waved at him. Surprised, he half-waved back. Then his attention jerked forward, towards the front of the car. He paled slightly, then the car sped up crazily and drove out of sight. Her brow creased in confusion, wondering what happened to the driver.

They soon arrived at King's Cross, and, getting out of the car, she noticed that the new car was there. A large man with a large mustache, a horsey looking woman, and a fat boy with a long coat and an odd hat got into the car and drove off, laughing. The two of them, Holly and Della, frowned, then continued to Platform 9 3/4. The scarlet train was steaming to be off, and Holly hugged Della goodbye. She got onto the train and started looking for an empty compartment, passing one with a platinum blonde boy in it.

"Oh, hullo. Do you mind if I sit in here?" she inquired, peeking her head in.

He wrinkled his nose at her clothes as he asked, "What's your name?"

"Holly Pine. And yours?"

"Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

She snorted. "Never mind, I don't want to sit with a prat. I'll go find another."

He looked affronted. "Prat? What d'you mean?"

"Malfoy's a pureblood name. You asked my name to see if I was pureblood or not. I don't want to sit with someone like that."

He scowled. "You're lucky Crabbe and Goyle aren't here yet, or I'd -"

"Set them on me? Gee, thanks. Next you'll be setting your dad on me."

A pink tinge entered his cheeks. "You're just a blood-traitor tree."

"Like I haven't heard that before. Holly Pine, yeah, I know, I'm one great tree. Willow's my middle name, to top it off. It's better than _Malfoy_. At least my dad never helped You-Know-Who."

His jaw dropped. "M-my dad wasn't -"

Holly rolled her eyes. "Please. Anyway, I have better things to do than talk to a snob... even if it is reading course books," she wrinkled her nose as though it wasn't something she'd want to do.

She closed the compartment door and continued walking, finally finding one that wasn't full. She felt a small bit of satisfaction grow in her chest as she struggled to get her trunk up above the seats.

"Need some help?" a male voice offered. She turned to see a boy, a few years older than her, with dark brown eyes and - was that green hair?

"Sure," she replied without missing a beat, standing aside to let him lift the trunk up. "Thank you."

He smiled. "No problem. I'm Dominic Rhodes, but you can just call me Dom."

"I'm Holly Pine, but you can just call me Holly."

Dom chuckled at her joke. "You're funny. First year?"

She nodded, then glanced him over. "Fourth?"

Surprised, he bobbed his head. "How'd you know?"

Shrugging, she replied, "Lucky guess."

"You'll be in Ravenclaw, then?"

"I might be. It wouldn't really be surprising; I am naturally brilliant."

Again, he chuckled. His hair turned sapphire blue, and his eyes turned bronze to commemorate the colors of the House.

"Metamorphamagus?" she guessed.

"That's right. I'm in Hufflepuff. No matter how brilliant you may be, I hope you're nice enough to join our House. You'd love it."

She smiled, her eyes twinkling. "I bet I would, Dom." Then he left to go socialize with his friends while she sat by the window, again getting lost in thought. This time she thought of doors made of white, maybe black, fire, a glowing white deer with large antlers, and a dark room with a full-size mirror set in gold.

When she finally came out of her thoughts, the sun was beginning to set. No one had asked to come in, and if they did, she probably accidentally ignored them. A lady with a candy cart walked by, and she ordered a box of Bernie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. It was only a few Knuts, and she really liked them, even if she did usually have the worst luck with them. She tried a white one that she was sure would be coconut, but really turned out to be salt; she also got asparagus, black licorice, dirt (even though she thought it'd be chocolate), soybean, salmon, and she had a small moment of triumph with a caramel.

As the train began slowing down, she drew the curtains and hurriedly changed into her robes. Her nerves were getting up and adrenaline started pumping. A voice told her to leave her luggage on the train, so she did so. She left the compartment and joined the throng of loud students, the box of sweets still in her hand. She picked out another, feeling lucky with a peppermint. Those were her favorite, after all, and just before the Sorting... it had to mean something good was going to happen.

Holly left the train and stepped out into the chilly night air. A lamp bobbed above their heads as a voice that sounded slightly familiar called, "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?"

The large man's face appeared, beaming. She started following him as he shouted, "C'mon, follow me - any more firs' years? Mind yer step now! Firs' years follow me!"

She slipped a few times, nearly falling but being caught by friendly hands that surrounded her. She helped a few times, as well, as they stumbled down a steep, narrow path. She nearly ran into trees a few times, but always turned just in time without falling. Not many people spoke, and a small, round boy sniffed a few times.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," the man called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

As the narrow path opened suddenly to the shore of a large black lake, a huge castle on the opposite side appeared. Holly's eyes grew round as she stared at the multiple towers with it's sparkling windows. A loud "Oooooh!" sounded around her, but she was struck speechless. It was wonderful.

"No more'n four to a boat!" he ordered, pointing to a small army of boats sitting in the dark water. She stepped in one carefully, and she was followed a small group of blonde girls. She knew that she'd hate them, because they were complaining loudly about their robes and hair getting wet.

The large man hollered, "Everyone in? Right then - FORWARD!"

Suddenly, the boats started to move, sliding across the glass-like lake. Everyone was silent, staring at the huge castle that would soon be their school. They approached the cliff that it sat on, and he yelled, "Heads down!" Everyone bent their heads as the boats carried them through a curtain of ivy and down a dark tunnel, which took them directly under the school. Eventually, they reached an underground harbor, and everyone clambered out onto a series of rocks and pebbles.

"Oi, you there! Is this your toad?" questioned the big man, who was checking the boats.

"Trevor!" cried the boy who was sniffling before blissfully. The large group of first years climbed up a passageway in the rock after the man's lamp, soon coming out to slightly damp grass right within the looming shadow of Hogwarts.

They all strode up a flight of stone steps and Holly was pushed rather close to a huge, oak door.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"

The man raised a gigantic fist and he banged thrice on the front door.

* * *

_That's the end of the chapter in the book, so it's the end of the chapter for me, too! Hope you enjoyed. Next is the Sorting and a bit of bitter irony..._

_-IM_


	4. Sorting

_Okay, I may actually upload two chapters in two days because I'm just that awesome and in that mood. This is the chapter where everything goes bitter. Finally!_

* * *

Swinging open instantly, a tall, black-haired witch in emerald green robes was revealed. She had a strict-look about her, and Holly knew that she wouldn't want to get into trouble with her.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall."

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here," she replied.

She pulled the door wide open. The entrance hall was twice the size of Della's two-story house. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches, the ceiling was too tall for knowledge, and a magnificent marble staircase facing the large group led them to the upper floors.

Holly shuffled after Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor, her sharp hearing picking up the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right, meaning that the rest of the school was there. However, Professor McGonagall showed them to a smaller, emptier chapter off the hall. Everyone crowded in, most of them standing rather close together. Not Holly, because, however nervous she was, she was confident that she'd be happy with her house.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," started Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." Her eyes lingered on a few people, and, out of the corner of her eye, Holly saw Harry nervously trying to flatten his hair. Smirking, she thought, _You should know that it doesn't work, Harry_.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

As soon as she left the chamber, everybody started whispering to one another, wondering what the Sorting Ceremony would be. Holly didn't mind much; Della, while not telling her everything, told her that it wasn't too bad. She trained her eyes on the door, waiting impatiently for Professor McGonagall to come back.

Suddenly, people started screaming. Holly whipped around to see several ghosts streaming through the back wall. They were all whiter than pearls and were slightly transparent, gliding across the room, arguing with each other and ignoring the first years. One, shaped unfortunately a bit like a ball, was saying, "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance -"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost - I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years. Holly was tempted to answer, but stayed silent, just in case. The Friar smiled, "New students! about to be Sorted, I suppose?"

She nodded quietly.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" he laughed. "My old house, you know."

Again, Holly was tempted to say something, more along the lines of 'No, we don't know', but before she had the chance, Professor McGonagall appeared.

"Move along now," she sharply instructed. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

One by one, the ghosts followed her orders as they floated through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," she ordered, "and follow me."

Holly filed in a line, just behind a red-haired boy, who was behind Harry. She couldn't help noticing him, knowing the secret, and she hoped that he wouldn't suddenly turn. Every second he looked at her, she felt like he would figure out why the two looked so similar. She walked deftly and confidently in the line until they reached the Great Hall.

A feeling of wonder entered her mind. She could've never imagined such a place, even with her huge imagination. Soft, flickering light emanated from thousands of floating candles, and two things entered Holly's mind - how hard it would be to manually light the candles, and why they weren't dripping wax everywhere. She knew the answer to both would be magic, duh, but still. They were floating over four long tables, at which all the rest of the students were sitting at, all laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. Another long table, this one horizontal to the four vertical tables, was at the end of the Hall, at which all the teachers sat. This is where Professor McGonagall lead them up to.

She glanced up to take another look at the candles, and saw the ceiling, which was velvety black and dotted with sparkling lights like stars. She knew from reading _Hogwarts, A History_ that it was enchanted to look like the sky outside, and from a bushy-haired girl with unfortunately long teeth whispering the same thing.

Forcing her glance to go back towards the stern professor, she saw her place a four-legged stool in front of the group. On top of the stool she placed a frayed, patched, and dirty wizard's hat. Everyone, including herself, was staring at the hat for a few seconds. Then a particularly wide rip near the brim opened like a mouth and the hat began to sing:

_"Oh you may not think I'm pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
You can keep your bowlers black  
Your top hats sleet and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.  
There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be.  
You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry  
Set Gryffindors apart;  
You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true,  
And unafraid of toil;  
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
If you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;  
Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folk use any means  
To achieve their ends.  
So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

The entire hall burst into applause after the hat was done singing. It bowed deeply to each of the four tables, then became quite still, as though nothing had happened and it were just a normal hat.

The boy in front of Holly whispered to Harry, "So we've just got to try on the hat! I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

Holly suppressed a laugh. Wrestling a troll? Who'd even believe that? She wanted to make a comment, but, again, she kept quiet. She felt so ready to try on the hat. It seemed like it would be most likely she'd be sorted into Ravenclaw. She was very quick-witted and rather enjoyed learning.

Professor McGonagall then stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be Sorted," she announced. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of the line, put on the hat, which fell over her eyes, and sat down on the stool. After a few moments, the hat shouted,

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

The table on the far right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down. The Friar waved merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" again shouted the hat, and Susan went to sit by Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped this tie; several Ravenclaws shook hands with Terry as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" also went to Ravenclaw, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor. The table on the far left exploded into applause, and twin red-heads started cat-calling. Holly hoped that they wouldn't do that to her, if she was sorted into Gryffindor.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" became the first Slytherin. Holly glanced at the table between the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, noticing that they all looked a bit haughty or large, like they were all half-troll.

The list skipped a few letters, going to "Finch-Fletchley, Justin" who was sorted into Hufflepuff. Sometimes the hat wouldn't even give the students time to sit down before shouting out the house they were to be in, other times, like with "Finnigan, Seamus," it would take a lot longer. He was sorted into Gryffindor. There were an awful lot of Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors so far - only two Slytherins had be sorted as yet.

"Granger, Hermione!"

The bushy-haired girl sprinted to the stool and jammed on the hat eagerly.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

When the toad boy, Neville Longbottom, was called, he tripped and nearly broke his head on the stool. Finally, after a long while, the hat hollered, "GRYFFINDOR!" Neville ran off without taking off the hat, and had to run back to give it to "MacDougal, Morag."

Malfoy was called, and Holly rolled her eyes when that hat barely touched his head when it called out "SLYTHERIN!" He looked very pleased with himself as he joined his friends Crabbe and Goyle.

Not many people were left. "Moon"..., "Nott"..., "Parkinson"..., then twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil"..., the "Perks, Sally-Anne"..., and then, finally, "Pine, Holly!"

A few people sniggered at her name, but she ignored them as she quickly strode to the stool. She put on the hat and sat down on the stool after a second of fumbling for it.

A small voice whispered in her ear, like a small snake, "Ooh, you're difficult. Very difficult. Very smart, very smart indeed, and unwaveringly loyal, too... not a bad amount of courage, either... oh, but what's this? A need to prove yourself? Yes, the unknown sister of Harry Potter, the famous Harry Potter."

She shuddered, not wanting many or any people to know.

"You want to prove yourself worthy as a sister to Harry Potter, even if nobody knows... ah, yes, it is obvious, you need to be in SLYTHERIN!" The hat shouted out the last word to the entire hall. Suddenly, she wasn't so confident any more. Slytherin? Slytherin? Really? Why Slytherin? How did that happen? Why - then she realized. It was because she wanted to be known while unknown at the same time, known for what _she _would do, not for what he did. That's why. And she hated it. Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff were all options in her mind, but Slytherin? Slytherin wasn't an option for her.

She was stiff as she took off the hat, placed it neatly on the stool, and she made her way to the table. Malfoy looked as though Christmas had come early. Dom, from the Hufflepuff table, was throwing her disbelieving glances. She wanted to answer the question that was so obviously written in his face - why had she been sorted into that house? But she couldn't, not without revealing her secret. She stared blankly at the stool.

Then "Potter, Harry!" was called. He nervously stepped to the stool while little whispers like hissing fire sprouted all over the hall. Holly didn't care what they were saying. She couldn't believe her bad luck. She thought for sure any of the other houses. Not Slytherin. Not Slytherin. That phrase kept repeating itself in her mind.

"GRYFFINDOR!" The hat yelled. Her heart sank. Of course he would be in Gryffindor. Of course. And she was in Slytherin. The only good spin she could get on it was the fact that it would be harder for anyone to figure out the two were related.

Then she heard Malfoy shouting across the table that she hated purebloods and Slytherins and everything to do with them, and thought them all as prats. She gulped as everyone's heads turned towards her. "Pine, I've never heard of Pine." "Prats? All Slytherins are prats?" "Why would she even say that?" "She's a prat in her own eyes, then." "How'd she get in Slytherin if all of us are prats?"

That last question lingered in her mind, and she asked herself that, as well. It wasn't her fault. Well, maybe it was. Maybe it was her fault that she wanted to prove herself against Harry Potter. She didn't move her head, not until the Headmaster stood up and spread his arms wide open. His hair and beard were silvery-white and were long enough to tuck into his belt. He was tall and thin, and had a crooked nose that was definitely broken before, at least twice. He was wearing high-heeled buckled boots under a light blue cloak, his eyes the exact same shade, which were sparkling behind half-moon spectacles.

"Welcome!" he called across the hall, silencing everyone. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

He sat back down. Everyone clapped and cheered, and Holly wasn't sure if she was supposed to laugh. Instead of clapping, cheering, or laughing, she turned towards the center plates, which were piled on with food. A ton of food was there, everything from steak to poached eggs. She was hungry, and everything seemed appetizing, but her mouth was dry and she couldn't seem to swallow. She took a swig of whatever was in her goblet (her favorite type of hot chocolate), but she didn't know what was wrong. Everyone at the table was staring at her murderously, and that's what it was. She was nervous about her own house.

To act like she wasn't nervous, she reached out for a steak, mashed potatoes, a baked potato, and buttered corn. She started eating, enjoying the food, but was out of it for a long while. Once she was done, she noticed that everyone else wasn't even half done. She looked up at the teachers' table and saw that Professor Dumbledore, as she had heard someone call him, was looking at her. He turned towards a man with a hooked nose, slightly sallow skin, and black hair and muttered a few words. The man nodded, then stared down at Holly.

After about fifteen minutes, the main courses disappeared and desserts appeared. She helped herself to a treacle tart, which turned out to be really good, so she took a few more. Those around her were bragging about their families, what they did over the summer, their constant presents, etcetera, etcetera. There was about twenty minutes of bragging before the desserts disappeared with a small pop.

Professor Dumbledore stood once more, and the hall fell silent. "Ahem - just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

The professor's twinkling eyes were cast towards the Gryffindor table.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

A few people laughed, mostly first years, but Holly could tell the Headmaster was very solemn. After a brief moment of confusion, he continued.

"And now, before we got to bed, let us sing the school song!" Holly's eyes twitched up in surprise, and she noticed that the teachers' smiles were now a bit forced.

Professor Dumbledore gave his wand a flick, like a fly was on the end and he wanted it off, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, Holly noticed with a squirm in her stomach, into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," Dumbledore instructed, "and off we go!"

So the school bellowed:

_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,  
Teach us something please,  
Whether we be old and bald  
Or young with scabby knees,  
Our heads could do with filling  
With some interesting stuff  
For now they're bare and full of air,  
Dead flies and bits of fluff,  
So teach us things worth knowing,  
Bring back what we've forgot,  
Just do your best, we'll do the rest,  
And learn until our brains all rot."_

Everyone finished at different times, Holly being one of the first with a quick one-two beat. At last, only the red-haired twins from Gryffindor were left singing at a very slow funeral march. The professor conducted their last few lines with his wand and clapped extremely loud afterwards.

"Ah, music," he announced, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

Holly stood up, but was steered quickly away from the Slytherins by the black-haired professor whom Professor Dumbledore talked to. In a slightly snide voice, he told her, "Professor Dumbledore has requested your audience in his office."

Her eyes flicked up worriedly to his face. "Am I in trouble?" If she was, how? Was she not supposed to be in Slytherin? Were they going to change her house? Hope inflated in her stomach, but she quickly punctured it with logic. Of course they weren't. They couldn't do that. Then she frowned at herself. Since when has she not been hopeful? _Since Slytherin_, a small voice murmured in her head.

"I do not believe so, Miss Pine."

He directed her down a hallway, then turned towards two gargoyles. Then, under his breath, he muttered, "Sugar Quills."

Confused, Holly looked up towards the man. For a moment, she wondered why he was muttering sweets quietly, then a small grinding noise was heard. She whipped her head back towards the gargoyles, who had hopped to the sides, revealing a spiral staircase. He lead her towards the staircase, walking briskly up them and encountering a door with the golden knocker. He knocked twice, and it opened. She walked in, meeting the Headmaster.

"Hello, Miss Pine. Please, sit. You too, Severus."

Quickly, she sat in the seat to the right, but the man, Professor Severus?, still stood.

"Professor Snape," he started pointedly, solving her confused look, "We are here to talk of Miss Pine's brother and parents."

Her eyes grew wide. "Professor Dumbledore, I don't think I'm supposed to tell anyone about that.""

He smiled softly. "No, you are not. But Professor Snape is your Head of House, so he shall know. Miss Holly Pine here is actually Mr. Harry Potter's twin sister, the only daughter of Lily and James Potter."

Surprise flitted across his face as he turned to look down at her. "Lily's daughter?" he quietly asked.

"Yes," Professor Dumbledore confirmed. He quickly explained what had happened, shock apparent on Professor Snape's face. "Nobody is to know, Severus. Is that understood?"

He swallowed, then nodded.

"And Miss Pine? You are also not to tell anybody, not for attention or anything of that sort. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Professor. I promise I won't tell anyone."

He studied her, then inquired, "Miss Pine, is something bothering you?"

She blinked a few times, and a few seconds passed before she nodded. "Well, yes. I was put into Slytherin, and, not that there's anything wrong with the House, but it's _why_ that's bothering me. It - the Sorting Hat - said that I-I was put into Slytherin because I wanted to prove myself against Harry. To be known for what I do, not for what he did, even though I'd never tell." Her brow creased. "Does that make sense?"

Professor Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Yes, it does indeed, Miss Pine. Anything else?"

Holly was quite pale, and again, she nodded. "Yes. I didn't know that. I didn't know that I want to prove myself against Harry."

He considered this, then nodded once more. "It is understandable how that would bother you. Severus, please take Miss Pine down to the Slytherin common room."

Professor Snape nodded and began to lead her out of the office. He was surprised by her bravery - he certainly wouldn't've been able to tell him what she did. And she was keeping such a large secret. Twin sister to the famous boy? He was sure she wouldn't be like James, more like Lily, due to the way she told Dumbledore about her fears just then. She was polite, quiet, and, before, she was worried that she would be in trouble. She was definitely not like James Potter.

* * *

_That is the end of the chapter! More bitterness is ahead, with Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. Review!_

_-IM_


	5. Snake Bite

_So, this took a bit longer than I thought it would. Sorry. And, starting now since nobody's reviewing, I won't update until you review. A little 'I'm reading' would be fine, you don't have to say that you love it or hate it. Even flames would be fine, cause then I know people are reading it._

* * *

Professor Snape led Holly down, deep past the dungeons. He swept past portraits and suits of armor quickly, his long steps exceeding four of the ones that she could do with her short legs. He walked so fast that Holly had to nearly sprint down all the staircases and through the hallways, but she didn't dare complain. He seemed like he would a very bad teacher to cross, even worse than Professor McGonagall. She couldn't fathom his expression; it was controlled and blank, his eyes unfeeling, but she had the strangest sense that he was acting cautious, like he expected someone else to pop out and surprise him.

She was sweating by the time he stopped in front of a bare stone wall and he muttered, "Salazar."

A concealed door slid open, revealing the Slytherin common room - it was underground with rough stone walls, long and low, with round green lamps hanging from the ceiling on chains. An elaborately carved mantelpiece laid ahead of her, with several Slytherins in high-backed chairs. Further along was a large glass dome that showed that they were under the lake. Multiple students sneered towards her, and she wanted to shrink in on herself, or become invisible. Somehow, she managed to stand tall and confident as she smiled up at the professor.

"Thank you, Professor Snape."

Instead of accepting her thanks, he told her that classes started at nine o'clock, and the schedules would be handed out at breakfast the following morning. Two spiral stone staircases led further down, and he made sure that she knew that the girls' dormitory was to the left. Then he whipped around and left the common room. She really didn't like the glares that were being sent her way, so she went down to the dorm.

There were seven twin-sized beds with heavy, emerald-green velvet curtains all around them. On the foot of every bed was glittering gems set, showcasing their first name. HOLLY was on the one furthest to the left, so she went over, surprised to find her trunk already there. Cadbury's cage was placed on top of a fine mahogany wardrobe that was reserved for her alone. She opened it to find her robes hanging neatly in rows, her shoes placed carefully underneath.

Her regular optimism popped out, thinking that perhaps it wouldn't be too bad. She shouldn't judge the Slytherins on what she had heard. That was prejudice. In the morning, she thought, I'll apologize to Draco Malfoy. Maybe things will turn out just fine.

She slipped on a pair to see how they fit, and, although she wasn't a fan of the house, she loved the color. Blue and green were her favorites. She began to set her bed, as she always slept with an extra blanket under the sheets. It was simply something she did. As she slipped her hand under the bed, something slithered across her hand. It was cool and scaly, and it made her eyes widen quickly. It hissed, then slipped up and around her arm. Her breath began coming in short gasps as she slowly attempted to extract her hand from the bed. The only thing that happened was she twitched her arm. The snake tightened its hold slightly. She took a deep breath, then reached down with her other arm to touch it. Instantly, pain exploded in her forefinger as it bit her hand.

Letting out a small cry, she fumbled for the snake's head. She pinched it down, then pulled it out of her bed. The endless tail of the snake was whipping around, but she grasped it's head firmly. Slowly, she backed away, stumbling slightly. In the dim light, she examined her finger. Blood dribbled out from the two punctures, and it was beginning to swell.

Her breathing was shallow, and she knew that she had to get medical attention. She couldn't tell what type of snake it was, or what type of venom was now coursing through her veins. As she left the dormitory, she heard someone sniggering behind her.

Through a throbbing headache that was beginning to form, she could only fathom one thought - she _definitely _wasn't apologizing after this.

Slipping and sliding, she scurried up the stone stairs. A burly boy scathingly questioned, "What're you doin' outta bed?"

"T-this snake was in m-my bed and it bit m-my finger. I-I don't know if it's b-bad or -"

The boy glanced down at the snake. "That's the common adder snake. Non-lethal, most of the time. But it doesn't look like it's a dry bite. You need to go up to the Hospital Wing. Here's a map of the school, I'll take the snake." There was a smirk on his face as he shoved a piece of parchment at her. It swam before her, and it took her several moments before it came into focus. She rushed out of the common room, running to the right to go up a few staircases. Then she took a left, opened a door, and flew down the corridor. She nearly ran over a small teacher with puffs of white hair sticking out on either side.

In a squeaky voice, he asked, "What're you doing out of bed, Miss?"

"T-there was an a-adder snake in m-my b-bed. It b-bit m-my finger and I-I need to find the H-Hospital Wing." The floor started rocking from side to side, the walls sweeping forward as the man looked up at her with concern.

"Well, then, let's go." Taking her arm, he led her around, making a few turns and climbing a few staircases, and he eventually opened a door. It was probably only a few minutes, but to Holly, it felt like an hour or two. "Madam Promfrey, a student -"

Immediately, an older woman swept her up and placed her in a bed. By then, waves of nausea had started to roll over her, and she was wheezing. The woman, Madam Promfrey, was muttering about anaphylactic shock as she hurriedly worked over her. At the bite, the throbbing pain grew more severe, until it felt like it would be easier to just cut it off. Then, through the haze of pain, her eyesight dimmed until she was enveloped in a cold, painful darkness.

* * *

The stern woman stood over her, shaking Holly's shoulder grimly. Her eyes opened, then widened, taking in all of her surroundings before looking up at the woman.

"Can you hear me?" she inquired, speaking very clearly.

Holly nodded only to get a sharp pain in her head. "Just say yes or no. Can you feel my hand?"

She muttered, "Yes." It was hard to miss, as her hand was digging into her right shoulder.

"Is there pain at the site of the snake bite?"

After a moment, she replied, "A bit."

"A bit?"

"Yeah. It's throbbing."

The woman seemed impatient. "Other than that?"

"No."

"Stand up slowly," she instructed. Holly complied, finding that her legs were a bit shaky. Otherwise, she was fine. Her stomach rumbled with hunger, so she glanced out the window to see the sun rising over the mountains.

"What time is it?" Holly questioned.

Ignoring her, the woman examined the young Slytherin. After a few moments, she instructed, "You may go down to the Great Hall now." And then she was done with her.

Quickly, Holly picked up the map that was sitting on a small table that was next to the bed she slept in. It was crumpled slightly, but she still could easily read it. Looking down, she realized that she was lucky - none of the common rooms appeared on the map, and she was already in her robes. Smiling, she ran a hand through her hair. It was knotted and messy, but, then again, it had always been like that.

As she left the Hospital Wing, she encountered a floating man with dark, sly eyes and an absurdly wide mouth. "Oooooooh! In trouble already, are you?" he cackled.

"Not really," she began, "I just had a little run-in with a snake."

Still cackling, he asked, "Which one?"

"Well, there's the slimy, scaly ones, and there's the ones that aren't Slytherins." It slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it, but she purposely made sure that she didn't looked surprised at herself. She didn't know what it was about the floating man, but she somehow knew that it wouldn't be good if she let him take advantage of her naïve-ness.

"Ooh, making fun of the poor Slythies?"

She shrugged, not taking her eyes off of him. She noticed that his eyes flicked to a corner, and, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a rather large bucket of water. Almost nonchalantly, she leaned over to that side, effectively cutting off his access to it. His eyes glittered with the challenge.

"Just a bit," she answered.

"But you're a Slythie, too!" he cried.

Raising her eyebrows, she responded, "I noticed, thanks."

Lightning fast, he swooped down at her, reaching past her towards the bucket of water. Using her foot, she knocked it over so he couldn't dump it on her head, as she suspected, then she began to run down the corridor towards the Great Hall. The man started chasing her, pulling up rugs from underneath her. Frustrated, she began to run faster, until she crashed into somebody. They both tumbled over, and she hurriedly got up to help the person up. It was him.

Harry Potter.

He was accompanied by a red-haired boy with a long nose, who glared at her hatefully. "Sorry I knocked you over, Harry," Holly offered, holding out her hand. He accepted it, pulling himself up.

"Who're you?" the boy next to Harry asked bluntly, still staring at her.

"Holly Pine."

The boy snorted, and Holly's eyes instinctively narrowed. "I'm Ron Weasley, a Gryffindor."

"I was at the Sorting, thanks."

Harry was inspecting her curiously. "You know, Holly, at Gringotts -"

"You've met her _before_?" Ron Weasley interrupted.

He waved his friend away impatiently, continuing. "At Gringotts, you were sure you'd be in Gryffindor."

"_Really_?" Weasley gaped at her, utterly surprised. "But you're in _Slytherin_."

She raised her eyebrows. "Really? I hadn't noticed."

"She's got cheek, too."

"I'm right here, you know."

"Fine, _you_'ve got cheek."

"You're one to talk."

"Stop it!" Harry ordered. "Anyway, you were really nice at Gringotts, and normally, the nice people aren't in Slytherin. Not that they can't be, obviously, but I was just wondering why."

After a short pause, Holly, choosing her words carefully, answered, "The Sorting Hat told me that I would do good in any of the four Houses, but one things that stood out was the want to prove myself. So I got put into Slytherin. Although I'd rather any other House, honestly."

To be honest, she was nervous that he would hate her like the Weasley kid did because she was in Slytherin. But he nodded, satisfied. Then he inquired, "D'you remember where the Great Hall is?"

Smirking, she shook her head. "I have no idea. But I've got this map..." she held out the piece of parchment. As she did, his eyes landed on the two little scars on her finger.

"What happened to your hand?" he questioned.

She grimaced. "Apparently, there are snakes in the Slytherin common room. That's why I have the map - I had to find my way to the Hospital Wing."

"But wouldn't the prefect have to take you there?"

Holly shrugged in response.

Two third year twins strode up behind Harry and Weasley. "Oh, Ronniekins!" one twin exclaimed.

"What're you doing -"

"With a dud map -"

"Of Hogwarts?"

Frowning at the two of them, Holly asked, "Dud map?"

"Yeah, that map -"

"Doesn't actually-"

"Show the right places -"

"Like the Great Hall -"

"Or the Hospital Wing -"

"It doesn't show where the Hospital Wing is?" Holly inquired, her eyes growing in alarm.

"No, it says that it's -"

"Over on the east side -"

"When it's really -"

"In the south-west -"

"And two floors up -"

"From where it says it is."

Her eyes flashed with betrayal and she bit down on her tongue. Before they could ask why she wanted to know where the Hospital Wing was, she quickly told them, "I figure it'd be nice to know where it is. In case of an emergency."

Harry cast her a sidelong glance, but didn't mention it when he asked, "Can you show us where the Great Hall is? We've forgotten, and we need to get down there for breakfast."

The twins' eyes seemed to twinkle with mischief, and Holly instantly credited them to some of the worst pranks (or best) that she would see. She hadn't seen them yet, but she knew that they would be responsible for multiple (probably explosion-based) pranks. And she was determined to make sure that none of them were played on her.

They turned and starting leading Harry, Ron, and Holly down to the Great Hall, with Ron casting nasty glances back at the young Slytherin. Eventually, they came to the bustling Hall, and most of the students were out of bed and shoving down breakfast, receiving their time-tables from their Head of House. The twins sped off in the direction of the Gryffindor table, and Ron was pulling Harry towards their table too. But he turned and waved good-bye to Holly very kindly. Then he turned back and started talking to Weasley again.

Every single table was alive with activity, and Holly glanced longingly at each one of the others. Taking a deep breath, she prepared herself for the Slytherin table. She had an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach; a feeling that told her that the Slytherins wouldn't be the kindest people in the world to her.

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_And that's the chapter. It's longer than the others, but still not as good as I want it to be. Either way, hope you enjoyed!_

_-IM_


	6. The Potions Master

_Okay, hope this chapter goes well... really, this is just Holly getting bashed by all the Slytherins. It's going to be sad and amazing. Hope you enjoy!_

_Disclaimer; I really, truly don't own the Harry Potter world or characters - I just manipulated them to my own story._

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She walked down the length of the Slytherin table. She paused at an empty seat near Malfoy; now was the time, if any, to apologize and make friends.

Malfoy didn't look too happy by the young girl's actions. "What d'you want, Pine?"

"I want to apologize for what I said on the train. It was rude and I was judging you based on the way you asked me a question. It was wrong and I'm sorry."

He looked stunned. "What?"

"I'm sorry," she repeated, reaching for a slice of toast, smearing butter and apple jam on it.

"You don't really mean it," he scoffed. "You just want to prevent any more snakes from getting into your bed."

"Hang on. You put that snake in my bed?"

Smirking, he shook his head. "No, I had Parkinson do it for me. And Marcus Flint gave you that map. Thought for sure you'd be near the third floor corridor, near enough for a teacher to catch you and get you into trouble."

Her eyes narrowed at him, throat constricting. Not only would the first-years hate her, but so would the rest of the Slytherin house? She intended to make nice, to stop things from being started to the point of blood-feuds. And she was too late.

It was tempting to put down her toast and punch him in the nose, but she restrained herself. Maybe a bit longer of being perfectly nice would help stop things; at least, that was the optimistic part of her, which was most of her.

So she did. Every time that she could, she would be nice to Malfoy and his 'friends'. Every time, Malfoy scoffed at her and started making fun of her. In each of their classes, they managed to make fun of her by calling her the 'tree'. Professor Quirrel, who was the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, nervously laughed at that, then continued on with his lesson; Professor Sprout, who taught Herbology, smiled (Holly assumed that she would love trees and not even consider that to be an insult; from the surprise of Harry Potter's name;the astronomy professor, Professor Pavo, ignored it, as did Professor Binns, who taught History of Magic; Professor Flitwick, whom Charms was taught by, didn't hear it, as he was struggling to get up over his desk from someone (namely, Crabbe or Goyle, she couldn't tell the difference) who had knocked over the pile of books that he stood on to see over that desk of his. Professor McGonagall peered down at him over top her glasses, but said nothing after looking at Holly's somewhat forced smile.

Really, she loved all of her classes, even with the constant interruptions from her peers. On Friday, the first class she had was Double Potions with the Gryffindors. This was the only class that she had with Gryffindors.

She followed a few Slytherins down to the dungeons, where the Potions class was to take place. It was colder, and there were multiple floating jars holding pickled animals in them. There was an odd amount of Slytherins, so she sat alone in the back. Before he started, she took out a piece of parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink. She wasn't sure how Professor Snape was going to be, so she had to be prepared to take notes. She knew that making potions didn't require your wand, but she still placed it next to the parchment.

He began calling role, starting with the Slytherins, then moving on to the Gryffindors. At Harry's name, he paused. "Ah, yes," he whispered. "Our new - _celebrity_." Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle sniggered behind their hands as Holly frowned. She didn't like the way he said 'celebrity', as though it weren't true. After he was done, he looked up at the class, his cold, dark eyes piercing every student, lingering on her and Harry a millisecond longer than the others. They were nearly black, and they were void of any emotion whatsoever.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. His voice was barely above a whisper, but even Holly, in the very back, caught every word; Snape had the talent of keeping an entire class silent without much effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mid, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

_Dunderhead?_ she thought, confused. His eyes drifted towards the Gryffindor side, and she realized that he meant _them_, not the Slytherins. The rumors that she had heard were probably true - Snape probably favored the Slytherins over the Gryffindors. She glanced over to them, and she immediately noticed a bushy-haired Gryffindor teetering on the edge of her seat, ready to prove that she wasn't the dunderhead he thought all Gryffindors were.

"Potter!" Snape called suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

_Powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood? Why would he ask that? Isn't it a really powerful sleeping potion? _Harry glanced towards his ginger friend, while the bushy-haired girl shot her hand into the air.

After a moment, he replied, "I don't know, sir."

Professor Snape sneered. "Tut, tut - fame clearly isn't everything." He ignored the girl's hand.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Holly bit on the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from shouting out the answer, because, in all honesty, it wasn't that hard... if you've been raised by wizards. Muggles, however, may not teach their child what a bezoar is.

The girl looked as though her arm would pop out her socket if she raised her hand any higher without leaving her seat, but Harry had a look of pure confusion. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were shaking with laughter as he again said, "I don't know, sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"

Harry was frowning at him, looking straight into his emotionless black eyes. Judging by his frown, and the way his hands were clenched and slightly shaking, he was getting angry, and fast.

Snape asked him a final question; "What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

_Nothing!_ Holly screamed in her head. She knew that she would get no where with this professor, but that didn't stop her from wanting to yell at him. Why was he so unfair to Potter? Just because he was a celebrity? Well, she knew that he didn't like being called that, she could tell from the very first day, at Gringotts.

The bushy-haired girl stood on her toes and reached towards the ceiling, as though trying to touch it would get her to finally be called on.

Then suddenly, all of his anger evaporated. Harry looked determined, although rather pale, as he responded, "I don't know. I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

She gave a breathy chuckle at that, but she was the only Slytherin who did. A few others laughed, but the were on the Gryffindor side.

"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione, the bushy-haired girl. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfbane, the are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

Priding in herself at her internal correct answers and for her insight about taking the notes, she quickly jot down those three things, though she already knew them. However, most people began rummaging for quills and parchment, over which, Snape announced, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."

Holly did have to admit that it wasn't unreasonable for Snape to take that point away; he was acting a bit cheeky.

The professor put the entire class into pairs and told them to begin making a simple potion that would cure boils. Of course, there was an odd number in the class, so Holly got left alone, which she really didn't mind.

Or, at least, she tried to convince herself that she really didn't mind.

She set to it, weighing dried nettles and crushing snake fangs, continuously making sure that she was following the instructions correctly. As soon as she could, she added the four measures of the crushed snake fangs and heated the cauldron to 200 degrees Celsius. Snape prowled around, criticizing everyone but two - Malfoy, and her. Although he was loudly complementing how well Malfoy was stewing his horned slugs, he slinked over, said nothing, the slide away. She took it as a good sign.

Just as he was telling everyone to come see how great Malfoy was doing, clouds of acid green smoke infiltrated the air and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville Longbottom, the toad boy, somehow managed to melt the sandy-haired boy's cauldron, deforming it into a twisted blob. The potion that was in it started to seep across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Many idiots (cough *Crabbe and Goyle* cough) stood completely on their stools, as did most of the Gryffindors and nearly all of the Slytherins.

Holly simply put her feet up on one of the rungs, just in case the potion managed to make it's way over to the black of the class to her.

The poor Gryffindor that caused the mess was drenched in the potion, moaning in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over him.

Unlike what she expected, Snape snarled, "Idiot boy!" as he cleared away the spilled potion with a wave of his wand. This caused her to raise her eyebrows; why was he so mean to him? He was obviously hurt. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking cauldron off the fire?"

Instead of answering, Neville whimpered. A few boils popped up on his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at the sandy-haired boy. Then he turned towards Harry and Weasley, who had been sitting next to them.

"You - Potter - why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

Both her and Harry's mouth dropped in indignation. Harry did _nothing_! Why would he even say that? If anything, that sandy-haired bloke should've warned him, not Harry. She didn't say anything, though, however much she wanted to. Harry looked angry enough to argue, but Weasley kicked him behind their cauldron.

He muttered something to Harry, but Holly turned away. He wasn't going to get in any more trouble, so why bother? She finished up her potion an hour later, and Snape swooped in to see how she was doing.

Very quietly, he whispered, "Good job, Miss Pine," and then he slunk away.

She cleared her potion away, packed up everything she needed, and then left the dungeon. Her mind was racing, and she wasn't paying any attention when she tripped over something, knocking all of her books out of her arms and spilling all of her papers across the doorway. She saw a pair of high-heeled boots, the cloak swirling around them, run away.

Snape looked up from whatever he was doing, surprised at the noise. "Miss Pine?"

"S-sorry, Professor. I just... tripped," she answered, quickly gathering up all the rest of her books. She half-ran to Defense Against the Dark Arts, getting in and sitting down right on time. Professor Quirrell glanced up, then began his third lesson of the week; Slytherin and Hufflepuff.

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_Why do all of my chapters take longer than I expected? Really, it shouldn't be **that **difficult. But, still, it took me a while. Hope you lot are doing well. Why don't you, I dunno, REVIEW? It'd be really nice and I won't slip in extra mistletoe berries into your Forgetfulness Potion in your Potions Exam._

_-IM_


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